


Surge

by Magnetism_bind



Series: The Kissing!Verse [4]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Baggage, Established Relationship, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Porn with Feelings, Punishment, Rimming, Rough Sex, Slow Romance, that turns into sexual spanking because, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 07:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11435598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Surge:a strong, wavelike, forward movement, rush, or sweep:a sudden, strong increase or burst:the rolling swell of the sea.Flint can't help being drawn to Silver, in spite of himself.





	Surge

It’s not every night, but it’s most nights that Silver ends up in Flint’s cabin. He waits till Flint’s done with his business, lingering in the window seat, often sitting there with his arm resting on a knee casually drawn up, gazing out silently at the sea.

_And with it, freedom...from water, from Randall, from hunger, from wages, from you…_

Flint hears those words sometimes when he's least thinking about it. He doesn’t dwell on how those wants may have changed in any way since Silver and he have started this. This is all temporary, sea foam to be swept away on the waves. That's all it is, nothing more, nothing less. 

He also remembers what Silver said about buying a house far away from the sea with his share of the gold. How much does Silver desire that? That somewhere, safely away from the roar of the ocean. He thinks on that more than he should, pondering the possible impossibilities that he dare not speak of in the daylight. 

 *  *  *

It’s not every day, but most days where Silver looks at Flint and _smiles_ and Flint can’t help the answering twitch of his lips. It’s little things, from Silver’s persuasion of the crew to start listening to him, to his daily updates of the gossip they’ve all been up to. Or merely just the presence of Silver himself, warm and bright and annoying at times, but charismatic nevertheless. 

There’s something about Silver, and his irrepressible sense of buoyancy that draws Flint in.

And yet, he knows there’s more, beyond the charming smile Silver wears. Depths that Silver’s not willing to let him enter. And while Flint is curious as the next person, he’s also almost grateful that Silver has his own demons in his past. It will keep either of them from delving too deeply into each other.

 *  *  *

It’s often enough that Flint grows used to Silver’s scent, even if he’s still not accustomed to the warmth of another body next to his. Somehow Silver’s body keeps winding up next to his. Whether it's pressed against his side after sex, or leaning into him as he dresses afterwards. A brush of Silver’s hand over his wrist, or Silver's fingertips lightly resting on his forearm when Silver leans over his desk to point out something on a chart. It’s all very distracting and yet Flint doesn’t object to it. In fact, if he’s honest he almost welcomes it after the absence of touch in his life. The brief moments shared with Miranda when he’s ashore are few and far between, rarer these days still. She was the only one who touched him without fear, well, her and Eleanor.

Except for Silver. When he shivers from Flint’s proximity, it’s not from fear. Well, possibly a small amount of fear. But mostly it’s want, desire revealed openly in his eyes, bare for Flint to see and explore.

It’s been so long since he was wanted and wanted someone in return. That’s what it is, when he wants to admit to himself, which is rare too. He wants Silver. That’s the whole of it, pure and simple.

 *  *  *

They fuck and they don’t kiss and Silver doesn’t ask for it anymore, but his eyes sometimes linger over Flint’s mouth and when he sucks Flint’s cock, he does it in the most obscene fashion, reminding Flint of every time their lips have never met, tongue to tongue. It shouldn’t be possible to make sucking someone off about kissing, but Silver manages it. He gets better every time.

In fact, Silver’s a natural at sucking cock. Now that he’s started, he’s goes all in and he enjoys it, almost as much as Flint enjoys it.  Flint almost feels as though he’s selfish, keeping this to himself, but he’s also not willing to let Silver go off and do this with anyone else right now. For as long as they’re in this, whatever it is, they’re in this together.

He doesn’t _want_ Silver to get off with any of the other members of the crew. Flint knows that much. Perhaps he doesn’t have the right to be jealous, but at the same time as he’s the captain, he has to maintain his reputation. As long as Silver’s sharing his bed, he can’t be running around with any of the other members of the crew. Flint’s fairly certain he’s not, based on Silver’s assurances that he’s the only one Silver wants aboard the ship.

He enjoys sucking Silver’s cock though he doesn’t admit that either. There’s something about the way Silver gives himself over to the act, whether he’s sucking Flint or letting Flint suck him off. But when Silver’s the one getting sucked off, his body is so wonderfully pliant in Flint’s hands. His thighs spread wide, easily slung over Flint’s shoulders. His cock hardens delightfully, thick and curved in its desire, seeking the heat of Flint’s mouth almost all of its own, Silver’s hips merely guiding it home.

And then there’s the rest of him. Silver’s stomach, tightly drawn with the tension of trying to hold back, trying not to come too quickly, trying to retain some control and Flint slowly drawing his surrender out of him, bit by bit. His nipples pert and ready for Flint’s mouth on them. His neck, bare and unblemished, waiting for Flint's teeth. Sometimes Flint leaves marks there, as a reminder of that first time he marked Silver, and sometimes he lets Silver go from his cabin unmarked.

Silver's face is so expressive, so revealing in those moments, when he’s finishing, Flint watches from his vantage point between Silver’s open thighs. Silver’s eyes fall closed, his lips part like he can’t hold back even a breath. The sheer sweet gratification of pleasure stealing over his countenance. How much he wants it is breathtaking.

And it’s because of _Flint_ , because of his mouth, his touch. He’s the one doing this to Silver. It’s intoxicating. No matter what he can’t give Silver, Flint still wants to give something of himself to him. It’s a fine line, one that gets more blurred from day to day.

 *  *  *

Still, in spite of the fact that Silver winds up in his cabin most nights, Flint drags him there one hot afternoon in a mood not remotely intent on anything pleasurable. 

One of the men had been slacking off on his duty and Flint had lit into him, reprimanding him within an inch of his life. They all needed to do their jobs now, more than ever. It was not the time to be seen as weak. Silver had intervened, attempting to lighten the mood and all it did was make it seem like he thought he could get away with that since he was fucking the captain.

They had to know by now. Flint could feel it when he walked the deck. If they hadn’t seen Silver coming and going from his cabin, they certainly would have heard him. They all had to know, and it made his anger apparent in the harshness of his movements as he hauls Silver by the neck into his cabin.

“What?” Silver says belligerently, like he’s done nothing wrong. And there it is, he thinks he can get away with this shit because of Flint’s…what? What is that he feels when he looks at Silver? It’s not infatuation. It’s not emotions. It’s…Lust. There, Flint’s not particularly happy with that word either but it’s better than the other word that pushes itself forward, offering it on the tip of his tongue. There is no love lost between him and John Silver; the mere suggestion is laughable.

Lust then. Silver thinks he’s untouchable now because Flint wants him and Flint needs to prove him wrong.

“I don’t flog men.” Flint says flatly. “But if you dare question my authority like that in front of the men again, I might be tempted to change my mind about it.” He wonders if Silver would be more malleable after a touch of the cat. Would he cry? Scream after a few strokes? Beg for mercy after his skin had been stripped raw? 

“Is that right?” Silver cocks his head and looks at him, like he’s listening to Flint talk about the weather. He clearly doesn’t think the situation is important, that he’s done nothing wrong, or worse, it doesn’t matter because of his position in the crew.

It’s a step too far. Silver’s forcing his hand. Flint merely pushes him over to the desk. Gripping Silver again by the neck he lays him down flat.

“You will learn your place.” He hisses.

“You don’t have to prove anything here.” Silver grunts. “We’re alone.”

Flint ignores him, pulling at his breeches, tugging them down to expose Silver’s tight perfect backside. Just the sight of it makes Flint angry. Why can't Silver behave?

“Flint.”

“I’m your captain and you will fucking show me the respect that position deserves.” His breath is harsh on Silver’s neck.

He brings his hand down hard on Silver’s bare ass.

Silver yelps loudly. Flint does it again and then a third time, watching Silver jump and squirm, trying to escape his hand. There’s no escape in this cabin, not from Flint. Flint strikes him again, watching the way Silver’s whole body jerks in response.

And then abruptly there’s a shift in his body.  An subtle altering to Silver’s posture, from the way his body rests against the desk to his very breathing.

“Fuck. Flint _. Fuck_.” Silver’s panting, and then Flint figures it out. Fuck if this isn’t making Silver hard. He’s stopped squirming and is definitely just letting Flint spank him, his cock tenting the front of his breeches, so Flint does.

He lays a series of straight, even swats on Silver’s ass, watching as Silver groans into it and offers more of himself, letting Flint press him more firmly over the desk. He knows Silver’s cock is in agony, not able to gain any more friction than what Flint is allowing him against the desk, and for now Flint’s fine with that. He hasn’t decided if Silver even gets to come now or not. It would serve him right if he didn’t. Maybe that would teach him what he needs to learn.

Flint brings his hand down again, watching as Silver’s whole body vibrates with it. His ass is a beautiful pinked color and it gives Flint an idea. He lets go of Silver’s neck and slides his other hand down to his backside.

“What’re you…” Silver says in a strained voice as Flint goes to his knees.

Flint sticks his tongue in him and Silver breathes out one muffled ‘christ.’ He’s gripping the desk hard now as Flint sucks wetly at his rim, teasing him.  

And then Flint grazes it with his teeth and Silver fucking screams.

Flint grins against him. While he’s well aware that Silver’s sound is from pleasure, it could easily be from pain, and anyone listening outside the cabin probably thinks Silver’s getting punished within an inch of his life. That will serve his cause just as well.

 _Good,_ Flint thinks viciously.

He licks all around Silver’s hole and does it again.

This time Silver whines deep in his throat, shoving his face back against Flint’s mouth. “So good, come on, Flint, do it. Just fucking do it, fuck me open, make me come with your tongue, fuck my hole.”

Flint pulls off long enough to say, “Jesus, your mouth,”

“ _Your_ mouth.” Silver shoots back at him. “Put it back where it belongs.”

“In your ass.” Flint teases.

“Since you won’t put it on my lips.” Silver mutters into the desk.

It’s the first time he’s referenced kissing Flint since that first time Flint let him sleep beside him. Flint pauses. He knows Silver still wants it, but that is the first time he almost sounds bitter about the fact that Flint withholds this one thing yet from him.

He falters briefly, just holding Silver with his fingers. 

Silver turns his head to look over his shoulder. “Oh, you can’t stop there.”

“Can’t I?” Flint says mildly. His breath slips over Silver, but he keeps his hands, and his mouth clear of him for now.

Silver groans out of frustration this time. He lays his head back down on the desk. “You can’t blame me for wanting to kiss you. It’s not my fault. I’ve tried…Look, do you want me to beg you to continue?”

“You could try it.” Flint suggests. He rubs the pad of his forefinger over Silver’s hole and Silver sucks in a breath.

“Please, put your tongue back inside. Lick me open till I’m fucking loose and ready for your cock. I’m already dripping here.” He presses his ass back against Flint’s hand. “You know you want to.”

Had Silver always talked liked that, or has he brought it out of him? Flint honestly can’t remember, and either way he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.

Silver keens, pushing back needily against him. “Please, Flint, please.”

“Do you really think you deserve to come?” Flint asks. “After your behavior out there?”

“I’m sorry,” Silver whines. “Please. Just, let me.”

“Next time maybe you’ll follow my orders.” Flint traces a fingertip over Silver’s balls, making him squirm.

“Yes, god, yes.”

He lets him squirm a little while longer, mesmerized by the sight. And then finally he hooks his thumbs in Silver’s hole, spreading him wide for his mouth and Silver’s answering sound is wordless, endless pleasure as he ruts against the desk, Flint fucking him into a frenzy until he comes.

Silver’s slumped against the desk as Flint straightens up.

He reaches a hand around to Silver’s front, feels the wetness of his orgasm there, dripping down him.

Flint grins.

He reaches down to undo his own breeches, drawing out his cock. Then he reaches around to slide his hand through Silver's mess, and brings it around to slick his cock.

Silver turns his head and looks up at him with dazed, half-slitted eyes. Flint palms his ass cheeks and squeezes, watching Silver’s eyelashes flutter shut.

“Too sore to fuck?” Flint inquires, massaging the reddened flesh gently.

Silver gazes up at him. “Would that stop you?”

Flint’s hand ceases to move. “If you don’t want this, all you have to do is say the word.” He starts to draw his hand away.

Silver’s hand closes around his wrist. Flint watches silently as Silver draws it back to his body, guiding Flint’s fingers down between his cheeks to press against him, pressing Flint’s hand right to his hole.

“I want this.” Silver breathes. “You know.” He catches himself before he can say anything more than that and Flint just nods.

Silver leans back over the desk, offering himself to Flint.

He spits, adding it to Silver’s slick already on his cock and thrusts into him.

Silver grunts, a slightly pained sound, but says nothing more than that.

Flint thrusts further until his balls rest flatly against Silver’s ass. He move slowly inside Silver, all too aware of the delicate flesh he's pressed against. The heat of Silver's skin resting against his stomach with every thrust. Silver’s breath is coming faster. He clenches hotly around Flint, pulling him over the edge. Flint closes his eyes as he comes, holding to Silver’s body. He feels the tremors of himself rising and falling, the exhalation fading and then he’s there again, in the soft stillness of the aftermath.

He rests against Silver for a moment, and if his lips happen to stray over Silver’s hair, it’s so light Silver doesn’t even feel it.

Flint cleans himself off and moved round the desk to sink unsteadily into his chair. His skin feels raw, like he’s been made new, reformed. He wants to sleep for a week; he wants to fuck Silver again right here and now.

Silver’s still leaning against the desk like he has barely any strength in his legs. He raises his eyes to meet Flint’s gaze and if Flint had had any doubts before, he doesn’t now.

“Was there a lesson somewhere in that you were trying to teach me?” Silver asks quietly.

“Yes.” Flint says. “Did you learn it?”

“That depends.” Silver uncurls his fingers from the desk and sweeps his hair back from his face. “Was the lesson, provoke the captain into giving me his cock like I wanted?”

Flint stares at him. “Was that what it was?”

Silver shrugs. “Partly.”

“You could have waited till tonight.” Flint glares at him. He had fully intended to have Silver tonight. There had been no need for any of this if that was all he wanted.

“I wanted it now.” Silver says, and then, “Besides, it’s not always a sure thing.”

Flint licks his lips and looks away.

Silver sighs. “I won’t let this get in the way of the crew’s opinion, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I would like some sort of…” He hesitates, like he’s not sure what he’s asking.

Even though Flint knows exactly what he’s asking, what Silver is seeking here. Surety, certainty, some sort of foothold to steady himself on. Some sign from Flint that this matters, that it means something between them, that it’s not just sweat and skin and spend.

“Is it still as good as you thought the first time?” Flints asks before he can bite back the question.

Silver glances at him. “What?”

“That first time.” Flint shifts slightly, uncomfortable in his uncertainty. “You asked if it always this good with a man.”

“Right.” Silver nods. “I did ask that, didn’t I?”

Flint waits and then, when Silver still doesn't answer, because he truly can’t help himself, he barks, “Well?”

Silver grins before he finally gives in and tells Flint, “It’s better.”

“Are you just saying that?”

Silver merely moves around the desk and crawls onto his lap, taking Flint by surprise. He cups Flint’s face, gazing down at him. His face is so close, it would be easy for him to lean in and kiss Flint.

If Silver crosses this line that Flint’s laid out with firm strokes, Flint’s not sure what he’s going to do. His hands grip the arms of the chair tightly, but he makes no move towards Silver, whether to draw him closer, or to push him away.

Silver lowers his head until his mouth is inches away from Flint’s throat and then lower, to just where the collar of his shirt rests. “Can I?”

For a moment Flint’s not sure what he’s asking, and then he understands. It’s not a kiss, but to allow Silver even this, is crossing a threshold.

 _And yet you, you marked him_ , the voice in his head reminds him, _you claimed his body and left your mark upon him for all to see._

It’s true enough.

He draws a breath and says, “Yes.”

Silver utters a wordless murmur of pleasure and sets his teeth to Flint’s skin. It’s agony, it’s arousing. Flint gasps at the sensation of Silver’s mouth on him there.

Finally Silver pulls back with a look of satisfaction.  “There.”

“Happy now?”  Flint murmurs.

“For now.” Silver says. He draws back slightly, gazing at him, at Flint’s relaxed demeanor.

“You like me here.” Silver wiggles slightly, pushing against Flint’s groin. “On your lap.”

“It’s not unenjoyable.” Flint tells him, and the look on Silver’s face is enough to make him let out a chuckle. “Why wouldn’t I enjoy it?” He reaches down to cup Silver’s ass. “You have a very pleasing form.”

“Do I now?” Silver glances down at his hands like he didn’t believe Flint’s words in spite of what had just taken place between the two of them.

“Yes.” Flint says and squeezes gently.

Silver lets out a pained, pleasurable moan. “Flint.”

“How sore are you?” He does it again, marveling at the heated feel of Silver’s flesh.

“Sore, damn it.” Silver gasps. “My ass is on fire and your _hand_ s.” He gasps again. “Fucking hell.”

Flint grins at him and Silver stares down at him wordlessly. There’s a heartbeat of a moment, suspended like a golden thread spun delicately in the air, Flint’s hands tighten on Silver’s body before he knows what he’s doing and Silver’s hands move gently up his chest tentatively seeking something…something that he yearns for. His blue eyes gaze into Flint’s, burning like the ocean when the sunrise is coming up over the water, dappling with that gold that burns like fire.

There’s a silence that lasts for eternity and Flint knows that if there’s more to give here, in this moment, it’s him that has to make a move. Still he holds still, his hands resting on Silver’s skin, but moving no further than what he’s allowed himself thus far.

Silver hesitates, licking his lips, leaving a sheen upon them. And then he scrambles backward off Flint’s lap, giving distance between them.

“What’s wrong?” Flint asks.

“Nothing.” Silver mutters. He dives around the room, seeking his clothes. “I just…” He offers a half smile. “My ass is too raw for anything more tonight. Is that all right?”

Flint rises to his feet. “Of course it is.” He pauses as Silver pulls on his clothes. “You know, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Silver offers a half shrug of his shoulders as he pulls his shirt down. “I know.” He pauses a moment longer and then he goes to the door.

Right at the door, he hesitates again and looks back. The look he gives Flint is bare of any artifice,  so painfully raw and full of anguish that Flint can’t move for the weight of it.

And then Silver’s gone without another word, closing the door silently behind him, leaving Flint alone with his thoughts.

*  *  *

Silver practically runs up to the deck. It's late. The night is dark, the air is fresh and clear on his skin. He takes a deep breath and throws his head back, looking up at the sky.

Oh he’s been careless and reckless and all of those words that are so fleeting and foolish upon his tongue, and yet now here he is. Pining after a man who will take his body and leave him feeling like he’s been sunk to the bottom of the ocean and raised up again to meet the sunlight and for what? Nothing. That's what. 

Silver starts laughing faintly at the ridiculousness of it all. He’s never wanted anything of this sort and here he is, wanting foolishness that was never his to want at all.

He takes a deep breath, swallowing over the tight lump in his throat.  

He can’t have what he wants, and he thought he could get by without it. Perhaps it was foolish, perhaps he should leave it where it lies. So for now he’ll just let it be.

Silver stands a long time on deck, gazing silently at the stars, until finally he goes back to his hammock and sleeps alone, rocked by the restless swell of the waves.


End file.
